believe me, I'm lying
by piston heart
Summary: Do soul mates ever really die? —LelouchKallen, Reincarnation!AU.
1. sleeping with ghosts

**A/N: **Um, first chapter-fic in this fandom. I'm nervous about posting this, but any questions will be answered by the end of this chapter.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, I don't own Code Geass, nor am I making any profit off of this fanwork.

**Warnings: **Vague spoilers for the entire series. There will also be other delicate subjects confronted in this, but nothing above the rating.

Enjoy!

* * *

_I could write about a thousand songs to impress you  
but I wouldn't want to do that.  
_

**i.**_  
a journey of a thousand miles begins with a step_

In her dreams, Kallen is running. She is searching for something, searching for it desperately, hands skimming along marble walls and footsteps rebounding off cathedral ceilings. Ahead of her, patterns of colorful shadows fall through stained-glass windows. Bells toll. People are singing. Somewhere, blood spills like water and fire burns bright, but none of it matters to her. All she wants is to find what she seeks, physically and mentally, on autopilot as she weaves through the pews.

Then—

"Kallen, dear! Are you ready for school?"

She sat up in her bed and rubbed at her eyes groggily, hearing her mother's hollow footsteps on the stairs. There was the scent of bacon and eggs, the sizzle as Naoto flipped them over in the frying pan, and she could hear the birds singing outside. Kallen pulled a pillow over her head and silently curled into the fetal position. It was too early and she didn't want to go to some stuck-up Britannian school, especially when she had a headache hammering against her skull. She got them way too often, these days. They used to only be every once in a while, but they had such a detrimental effect on her health she had to dropout of school for a while. Now her physical health was improving, and the pills the doctor had given her were working: just not quickly enough.

Her door creaked as her mother opened it, stepping inside. Kallen could imagine the fond expression on her face as she walked towards the bed. Soon enough, her mattress tipped a little to the side with the added weight, and a hand kindly placed itself on her shoulder.

"Please, get up," she whispered. "I've got a big breakfast for you downstairs, and your uniform is sitting on the ironing board. I know you don't want to go, but it won't be as bad as you think, I promise."

Kallen stretched and turned her head to the side, blinking at the onslaught of sunshine and the blurred image of her mother's face. "You promise?" she asked, holding out one hand, pinkie finger extended.

With a smile, her mother caught it in her own and shook. "I promise," she sighed in relief.

It wasn't until later, when she was knotting her tie and pulling her skirt down a little more snugly over her hips, that this all felt familiar. Not the breakfast or her mother, but putting on a uniform and getting up at six in the morning. It was strange— she'd never been to a private school before, so how was it familiar? The thought settled under her skin and itched there while she sat on the bed and kicked her polished shoes back and forth against the backboard, until her mother said that it was time they left.

- - - -

It wasn't as ritzy as she'd expected, thank God. Nevertheless, it was ritzy, and her heels ringing out across the marble floor were an uncomfortable reminder. The people were nice, though, or the ones she'd met had been. Kind of peculiar, but in a good way, from what she'd seen so far. There was the leader of the Student Council, Milly, who had jumped on her at sight, and the redhead named Shirley, with the bottle-green eyes. Kallen had met a few others too, but at the moment, she was supposed to be concentrating on a test.

She wondered why her glare hadn't burnt holes in the paper yet. The teacher of this class (World History, if she remembered correctly) hadn't even looked at her and handed out the paper. She didn't want to start trouble, but how the hell was she expected to do this when she hadn't studied any of it yet?!

Sighing in frustration as said dumbass teacher went into one of the numerous closets in the back of the room, she scanned it over again. It was a quiz about the remodeling of Britannia, the period of time extending from the subjugation of Japan to Lelouch vi Britannia, the Demon Emperor's, death. She had been just about to start this unit, too, at her public school.

Twirling her pencil through her fingers, she read the first question. _Who murdered Lelouch vi Britannia?_

_Easy,_ she thought, and wrote in the correct letter answer— _Zero._ Anyone with half a brain would know that, considering it was moderately recent history, and they ran something on the television about it at least once a year. The next question was harder. She didn't think she knew the answer to it— _List the two Britannians on Zero's side._ Kallen could only gape as her pencil answered that. She didn't know _that_; she'd never heard of those people in her life, yet—

_Count your blessings,_ she told herself, as her body went on autopilot and scrawled in the rest of the answers alarmingly fast. Her mind felt hazy, as if she were in a dream, not one of those nightmares that riddled her sleep. It had been a while since she'd had a full night's sleep. Most of the time, she woke up at a least of three times, with a vague horror in her mind and a churning feeling in her gut. No memory. Other times it was the dream of the cathedral, the drying blood on the pews, and she always awoke with full knowledge of it. Along with this came no terror, but in its place was bemusement, and discomfort, like it was sacred ground she shouldn't be treading on.

Kallen sat rigid in her street, her eyes staring just to the left of the paper. She wasn't sure what would happen if she really looked at it. After all, she didn't want to think about how she'd known those answers, or why. Instead she sat there until the bell rang before handing her paper in and walking out the door.

"Kallen-chan~"

_Just what I need, a possibly psychotic President on my back, _she internally grumbled, but that didn't mean she wasn't grateful for the distraction. "Yes, Milly-san?" she answered politely, turning around to face the other girl. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, of course there is!" Milly laughed before handing her a map of the school, with a large building circled in the middle of it. "I'd like you to stop by the Student Council building after school. I know you might not want to join, but hey, what's the problem with at least checking it out? You'll love it! I think you'll be a great addition."

"My mother wanted me to—"

"Great! See you there, Kallen-chan!"

_At least you have something to think about? _a portion of her mind suggested, and she forcefully squashed it.

* * *

The campus was strangely full after dismissal. There were a lot of clubs, and she shuddered as she saw several boys huddled together, pointing and staring at her. Being attractive was much more trouble than it was worth. It embarrassed her. People looking at her always made her nervous. There was still some prejudice against those not of Britannian lineage, and she was only a half so. She'd admitted it once or twice when she was younger, among the 'higher circles' her father had hung out with, and had been shot glares for the rest of the night. Looks made her feel like she'd done something irrevocably wrong; committed a crime only punishable by a death sentence. She kept her head to the ground and toyed with the lapels of her jacket, and used her map as an excuse.

It was a good plan until she tripped over a loose stone. She didn't consider anyone catching her (Kallen was too busy thinking _well, damn it; good job, Kallen, wonderful way to end your day_) until someone's arms wrapped around her. She stifled a gasp. Their touch burned like fire on her skin, and all she could see was violet eyes and black hair and blood, until the person pulled her up, and then—

She saw black hair, white skin, and purple eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth withered into dryness in a second, and she wondered why she felt so relieved and terrified at the same time. There was a feeling like flying, a euphoric high that made her want to spin in circles, a dancing urge that made her knees knock together. Her hands, clenching his forearms, shook.

"My name is Lelouch Lamperouge," he said, more politely than she could ever have managed, and god_, _god_, god, _why did he sound so familiar, why did her stomach seem to convulse and her eyes overflow with happiness at his soft velvet voice? Why!? She didn't understand; she was lost, meandering on the blank spaces of a map, treading on the ground of the church and facing that death sentence. "May I help you with anything?"

For a moment, blue eyes met purple, and Kallen didn't understand _what _passed between them, but she was in utter blackness, choked by it, and the next thing she knew his lips were pressed against hers. Her first kiss had always been of value to her, and she knew that if this had been a normal circumstance, she would have pushed him away. She would have punched him with her infamous right hand, told him to never touch her again, and walked away. This felt _right_, though, in a life that suddenly appeared to have been wrong along. And she kissed back, like she'd done this before, holding onto him for dear life.

Then it ended, and he pulled away from her, and she wasn't surprised in the lucid part of her mind that he was panting. In that same lucid part, she knew that even for experienced kissers, that hadn't been bad. He held her at arm's distance, and was about to speak— she could see those angel's lips (always accompanied by a devil's words) beginning to move—

Kallen vomited up her lovingly prepared breakfast over his polished black shoes, turned tail and ran.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm satisfied by this, which is surprising for me, though I'm super-nervous about posting it. I think I handled it pretty well, considering the situations I wrote it under, though I think there's probably a lot of grammatical errors and typos in this, since I wrote it, for the most part, after being awake for thirteen hours with only five hours sleep. Anyway, I understand a lot of you guys will be confused by this, so.

This is a reincarnation fic where Kallen and Lelouch meet again, in the next life. Obviously, their memories are triggered by questions, similar circumstances, and et cetera. I think that if you meet someone from a past life, especially as someone with as much as an impact on Kallen as Lelouch, you'll have some mental recognition. Lelouch also recognizes Kallen, don't you think? (This also implies that Lelouch did return Kallen's feelings, in Code Geass, but it's a fic centered around this pairing; what did you expect?) If some of you are questioning the validity of them having the same names and the same lineages (i.e., Kallen being half-Britannian, her family having the same names), I did it for the convenience of the reader (AKA you guys).

I think you also have to recognize that this fic is based upon the idea of fatalism, that all events are preordained. It's also about soulmates. I don't nessecairily believe in them myself, or that Lelouch and Kallen really were soulmates, but it works with the plot. After all, isn't that the idea— that you have one soulmate, through all of your lives, and somehow you meet them again and again?

With all this said, any more questions can be answered by reveiwing, or e-mailing me.

_Feedback and concrit greatly appreciated! _


	2. know where you sleep

**A/N: **HUGE thanks to everyone who reviewed and put this on Story Alert, or favorited! It's a bit intimidating, but at the same time it's gratifying, so **thank you. **I struggled with this chapter a lot. I rewrote the first half of it a couple of times because I disagreed with my characterization of Kallen, but I think that it didn't come out too bad after I polished it. (It probably still has a lot of grammaratical errors in it. Oh, woe is me; I have no beta to proofread, and I wrote most of it on three hours of sleep. Sorry for the eyesore!)

**Disclaimer: **As much as I wished I owned Code Geass (especially Suzaku), I don't. Wish I may, wish I might, but ownership will not be granted to me tonight.

That being said— enjoy!

* * *

_I could make you feel like the queen of the world,  
but I won't, because you're full of imperfections._

**ii.**  
_the first condition of immortality is death_

_Her footsteps are swallowed by the sand. Kallen is not searching; no, not this time. She is just walking endlessly, through a changeless landscape of desert, the sand sticking to her. It is not hot. It is cold, the kind of cold that creeps underneath your skin and seeps into your marrow; a cold that is not physical, but is felt by the soul. Kallen wants to breathe. She does not need to, she knows, in this land, but she craves it like a lover craves a gentle touch.  
_

_Air is a drug, perhaps; it has poisoned her, twisted her, and now she needs it. She depends on it. Already, her heart is stuttering in her chest and her skin is sloughing off, and she is a train with no set track, wheels sliding and squealing, and when the sky explodes she expects it. She accepts it._

_She stretches her hands skyward and allows words to form and fall from her lips in broken syllables. She swallows the desiccated air and wonders what it's like to be free._

_And as the world goes to white, a hand reaches for her, but she_—

_She turns away._

Kallen woke with a start, shivering in the remaining horror of her dream and the ugly feeling of sweat slicking her shirt to her back.

Her brother's garage was stifling hot, and exceedingly so in the last dog days of summer. Kallen tied her hair up in a short pony-tail and growled at the machine in front of her, tempted to throw her wrench at Tamaki the next time he came waltzing over and asked her what had her made her start PMS-ing. It would do no use, though; he would just go run off and tell Naoto, and everyone knew that she couldn't stand her brother being disappointed in her. Not like him having potential brain damage was her fault. Men were supposed to have some sort of radar for that kind of stuff, weren't they, and everyone had thrown something at Tamaki. It was probably why his skull was so thick.

"Yo, Naoto's little sister," came the usual call. She felt her eyebrow twitch. "There's some loser here to see you. He looks gay."

Without turning around, she cracked her neck and continued to work. Tamaki was about to start up again— she had his reactions timed to the second— when she acknowledged him. "I doubt he'd be here to see me," she said. "Especially if he's gay. Go entertain him."

He grumbled but went, and she exhaled a sigh of relief. It wasn't that she disliked Tamaki usually, even if he could be an idiot, or that she usually radiated such a violent aura. But she needed her space right now. After that _lovely_ event at school, she'd run right to the garage. It had always been her place to hide. She would tuck herself behind one of the older, latent Knightmare Frames and just sit and think when she was younger, and by the time she was about nine, the workers started offering to teach her the 'tools of the trade', she was such a regular sight. Not that she always came here when she was upset; she loved working with machinery. It felt like she was slipping into her own skin.

On most occasions, the garage did its job. She would come out, ready to start kicking ass and taking names again, feeling rejuvenated. But today, all she did was feel more and more lost, the more she tinkered away at the thing in front of her. Especially when she heard someone's footsteps behind her.

"Go away, Tamaki," she muttered. "Wasn't your boyfriend supposed to keep you busy?"

"I think you've got the wrong guy."

Kallen froze. Kallen stopped breathing.

Kallen turned around and flung her wrench at the boy sitting behind her.

He— hadn't he said his name was Lelouch?— ducked, and it clanged against the wall before dropping to the ground with a clatter. She snorted. He didn't even have the honor to look ashamed.

"It's nice to see you too," he said, smiling at her. She frowned as she got the tell-tale fluttery sensation in her stomach. _Stop that!_ she mentally scolded herself, before realizing how ridiculous she was being.

"Go stuff that up your—" she began, before biting down on her lip. There were more pressing matters than offending him. She settled her hands on her hips instead and stood, glaring down at him. "How did you find out where I worked?"

"It's not that hard to predict, Kallen," he said. She wanted to slap him.

"You're creepy," she informed him, rolling her eyes. Despite her initial reaction to him, she refused to act like some silly girl who made cow-eyes at him. It just wasn't right. Kallen would not stutter and blush. She would not shake or smile or hang onto false hopes. She wouldn't. After all, he was probably some psychopath with poison on his hands that caused you to hallucinate. "Anyway, how'd you find out my name?"

"Am I?" he asked, and he reached across the gap to hand her the wrench. He avoided telling her how he knew her na,e. "I came in here last year to see if you could fix Rivalz's motorbike—"

His fingertips barely skimmed her skin, but it was like someone had plugged an electrical circuit to all of her nerve endings. Kallen dropped everything she'd been holding and gasped, face twisting in pain.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled at him, and in the brief glance she gave him she saw he looked shocked. She curled her hand tight around the wrench, struggling to maintain control of herself. It probably hadn't been right to react that way. Lelouch— what special brand of idiot named their kid that, anyway? It was just asking for trouble— hadn't known what he would do to her. Kallen glanced at her palm. It looked normal enough; no discoloring or anything. _That poison must only be mental. _

"Look," she said, sighing. She leaned forward and placed her forehead against the cool metal of car she was working on. "You're— I don't know you. You don't know me. All _I _know about you is that you followed me here, you kissed me, and that I— that you make me feel— _things. _I don't need this. I'm starting at a new school, and that's enough without the other things on my plate. I'm sure you're nice and generous when you're not stalking people, but I don't want to get to know any side of you. Okay?"

_Also, a piece of advice: stalking a girl isn't the best way to woo her. I'd have been fine with a few walks in the park and some chocolates, thanks.  
_

"I—" She could see his warped reflection swallow and clench his hand into a fist, a pained smile on his face. Kallen closed her eyes on it and tried not to think about the ache between her ribs. "I'm sorry."

Five minutes later, when she still hadn't moved from her crouch, she heard soft footfalls as someone walked into the room. They stopped a foot away from her. She could tell it was Kaguya by the way they started tapping their foot to clear the silence.

"That wasn't very nice of you, Kallen," reprimanded a high-pitched voice. She could just see Kaguya, standing there with her lips pressed thin and her arms akimbo. "What did he do? Who were you talking to?"

Kallen shrugged, picking up the right tool and restarting her work. "Some weird guy from school. He just frustrated me. Then he stalked me here."

"I don't see anything wrong in stalking people."

"Of course you don't," she muttered. "You're Kaguya, after all."

"What was that?"

"Huh?" Kallen looked over her shoulder, putting on a clueless mask. "I didn't say anything. What's up, anyway? You wouldn't just come in here to bug me about being rude to a boy, would you?"

"Nope! Anyway~" Kaguya's gaze went heavenward in exasperation. "There's a big party over at the Tower this Saturday. Some military initiation or something, and Suzaku's getting promoted— he's been made a knight, now. Hmph! It'll just inflate his ego more, but does anyone listen to me? No! But I need someone to go with. Dad said no boys, since he still considers me the epitome of purity or something flattering like that, and you're tough. You'll knock out any boy's teeth who tries to touch me, won't you, Kallen? And I know your week will have been really stressful and you might not want to go to any stupid promotional party, but pretty please, with ice cream and cherries and cotton candy on top! They'll have Knightmares there, too! It'll be worth your while, I promise, and I never ever break promises!"

Her hands stilled. Saturday was tomorrow, since she'd come to get a feel for things the Friday before a whole week of school. She probably shouldn't accept. She had course reading to do, and her mother wanted to take her and her brother out for dinner. But the lure of Knightmares was too tempting to pass up, considering that the newest generations were usually only found in the Britannian military, and this month's issue of_ Nightmare_ hadn't arrived yet.

"I'll come."

She snorted as Kaguya shrieked in delight, skipping from the room. Kaguya went to the same private school she now did, being old money, and their families had been friends for as long as Kallen could remember. Sometimes, the jet-haired girl could be more than a tad aggravating, but she'd known her for so long it didn't bother her much anymore. She was a welcome relief to the problem Lelouch posed.

_How long can you keep running away?_ snapped a voice. It contained all the frustration she felt at staring something she had no idea what to do with in the eyes.

_As long as I can,_ she told it, and lost herself in the machinery.

* * *

**A/N: **I know you guys are wondering when the actual plot— yes, I do have one planned!— will start. Next chapter will be a sort of prelude to it, and I know that there wasn't much in terms of Kalulu interaction here. :( Don't worry, the next chapter will have a lot of that in it, too. Maybe they'll even dance; who knows? And the rough draft for the next chapter in it is some actual Lelouch point-of-view, which I'm pretty excited for.

Do you guys— or, well, whoever's reading this errant author's note— want this to be updated quicker? Since I have the next chapter halfway written, I could post it tomorrow or the next day, but I'm not sure. It would mean waiting for the chapter after it longer, so I'm stuck between the two. I'm leaning towards updating it sooner, though.

_Feedback appreciated!_


	3. ricochet

**A/N:** The majority vote was 'update faster', so here you go. :3

Also. Can I express how much I love you all? Honestly, this is my best received story so far, and I _love _everyone who's reviewed or put this on story alert or already favorited it. 8D

Sadly, this chapter does not live up to what I planned it to be. So no Lelouch point-of-view yet, and it's basically just setting up for things that will happen in future chapters. I tried to make it the least bit interesting, though. Hopefully I don't disappoint too badly.

Another also— **SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE SERIES. **Seriously, don't read if you haven't watched the last episodes. The ending is only mentioned, but I'd hate spoiling someone.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it— yet.

* * *

_This is coming from a third perspective,_

_all I'm saying is you need to be selective—_

**iii. **  
_every sweet has its sour; every evil its good_

_-  
_

_Kallen was herself, and then she wasn't. She found herself walking behind a girl who looked exactly like her, standing next to a man in white, decorative robes. A man who looked exactly like Lelouch._

_She tried to turn away when she realized that this wasn't just a man who looked like Lelouch; this was Lelouch vi Britannia, the Demon Emperor. At the same time, she didn't want to. Maybe this dream would hold the answer to all her questions._

_Why did Lelouch seem so familiar to her? Why did he provoke such reactions? Why did her world fall out of focus when he only looked at her?_

_Then she stared, in wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock as the girl who looked like herself leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Sayonara, Lelouch," she whispered, and walked away, holding her head high._

_What the hell? she screamed, watching incredulously. No sound came from her mouth, but she half-expected that. I can't be dreaming of him just when I first met him!_

_Then the landscape started to blur. A mirror appeared in front of her, and she stared at her reflection as it changed. Once she was the girl who'd just kissed the deceased Emperor, and in the next second younger, dirtier, with missing teeth and bruised arms. Again and again her reflection ripped and transformed, exchanging each disturbingly similar face for another._

_There were princesses with gold on their fingers and sapphires gleaming icily at their throats, and there were knights with swords and feral eyes. Nobles who sashayed out on a ballroom floor, their embroidered skirts swirling like water around white knees, and peasants with trembling lips and cold fingertips, so hungry their stomachs were swollen._

_She felt their pain and their joy; their love and their sorrow; their peace and their wars. A million lives stuffed into one skin, pressing close and hurried and ready to burst at the seams, begging for release. For death. But there was one life she recognized the most, the life of the girl who had kissed the Demon Emperor. When the face in the mirror was hers, Kallen placed her hand on the glass and asked: "Who are you?"_

_"I'm you," the reflection replied, and—_

_The glass broke._

"Bad dreams, Kallen?"

"You could say that," she replied, fiddling with the catch of her purse. She fixed a smile on just to reassure Kaguya, who grinned in return and began to annoy their driver.

It was a pretty day. The leaves had started to turn, mixing in golds and oranges with greens and browns. Autumn chill was just starting to worm its way into the air, but it was still warm enough to have soirees outside, like this would be. Kallen knew what to expect: geezers and their trophy wives, hanging onto their arms and simpering. Old men with faces crinkled like crumpled paper talking of war and showing the scars written over their arms. She remembered her mother holding her shoulders tight when her father would talk about his business to other men, telling her just to smile and say good things. She remembered—

_"Ladies of the court!"_

_Kind hands, draping a coat around her shoulders._

_An eye spinning into dark purple, washing over with crimson, stained and dyed in blood._

_Her heart beating fast; the metal cuffs chafing her wrists; screaming and screaming as she watched the blood smear the ramp, leaving behind a trail. She should be screaming for Zero; Zero was the one she believed in, the one she loved. Lelouch was a liar and a murderer. Lelouch wasn't Zero. But she was screaming for him._

"Hey, Kallen! Earth to Kouzuki! Hello!"

"Huh?"

"Jeez, Kallen! People say I'm air-headed!" Kaguya exclaimed, before doing her best 'cute' expression and clapping her hands. "We're here! There won't be any cameras or anything, because it's a mostly private function, so you don't need to worry about that. But there will be Knightmare races later this afternoon, after the ceremony— which will be super-boring, by the way, so be prepared— and then the dancing!"

"What Knightmares?" she asked, looking at the building in front of them. It was a cheery white house, the shutters and the door painted red, the knocker shaped like a lion. Beyond its gates, wrought out of black iron, were endless green fields, bordered by tall oak trees.

"Kallen, one day you'll need to stop being so interested in Knightmares and more in boys! I swear, I'll get you dancing tonight!" Kaguya frowned. She instanteousnly brightened again as she knocked on the door. "I don't know; one or two of the Rounds. Play-fighting, you know. Then there'll be some traditional sword dueling, for show. First blood and all that, since the snobs can't seem to handle some good bloodshed and bruises without needing their smelling salts. It'll be fun, though!"

"Hey, you make me sound like a nervous old hen," she said, as the door swung open. A prim butler stood behind it. He bowed to them and told them to walk until they reached the inner courtyard.

"Not a hen," Kaguya said, off-handed. They were passing by several people, now; more butlers balancing trays of lemonade and small sandwiches, and guests chattering amonst themselves. "Maybe a tigress, or something. Or a tiger's prey. They do stalk it, y'know."

"Nice joke." She rolled her eyes and scanned the area, before stopping herself. There wasn't anyone here who knew her, let alone wanted to hurt her. _A plus, Kallen. Not only do you have a psycho stalking you, but you're starting to act like everyone's out to get you. You should put that on your college application! _

"C'mon, let's go sit over her—"

"Excuse me, dear Kaguya, but may I steal your friend for a moment?"

_Correction, _the voice in her head commented dryly. _You do have someone out to get you. Him._

Kallen blinked in mixed astonishment and horror as Kaguya whirled away, her green kimono blurring around her, a smile spreading ear-to-ear. She rushed at Lelouch and flung her arms around his neck, and he chuckled.

"Lelouch!" her friend called, sounding elated. When she was done hugging him, he set her back on the ground, and she looked back at Kallen with sparking eyes. "Kallen! I didn't know you two knew each other! Here, let me introduce you— Lelouch, this is Kallen, my friend. Kallen, this is Lelouch, my future husband!"

"Uh," Kallen said, lacking any words to say. _This is turning into a really bad shojo manga. _"It's nice to meet you, uh— Lelouch."

"A pleasure," Lelouch said, smiling kindly. She was gaping when he stepped around Kaguya, bowed, and kissed her hand. There was no temporary blackout or electrical feelings this time. All she felt was a tingle and a rush of blood to her face as she turned red. "We've already met before, though we were never formerly introduced. I came over Friday to try and get one of my sister's toys fixed. However, Miss Stadtfeld— I apologize if you prefer Kouzuki— was busy. I can see why."

"The same," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. _The bastard. Thinks he can win his way in through flattery! I'm not that easy. _"I'll be able to take you on Monday, if you want."

"That would be perfect," Lelouch replied, clasping her hands between his own. She looked everywhere but him, focusing on Kaguya, who was frowning. "I actually have some school matters do discuss with Ms. Kouzuki, so if you'd please excuse us, Lady Kaguya—"

"I could never deny you anything, Lelouch," Kaguya said, fluttering her eyelashes. Kallen wondered if it was possible to choke on air. "Please be nice to him, Kallen. He's a very conscientious person, and my fiance. You can't be mean to my fiance!"

"Right." _A conscientious person who poisons people. Hm, there's a conundrum. _

Kallen glared down at the arm that was offered to her, but looped her own through it anyway. She plastered a fake smile on as Lelouch wove through the crowd, waving and greeting people he knew. Some grinned and winked knowingly. She wasn't sure if she'd ever been this red in her entire life.

"Lelocuh," she grit out, after they'd sat down. "I am going to kill you."

"As stunning as ever, Kallen." He looked at her in amusement, his head on his hand. He even had the utter _gall _to put his arm around her chair.

"I told you I don't need this." Her hands unconsciously bunched up her skirt, fingers making folds of bright red fabric. Casually, as if he were picking up an object, Lelouch reached out and plucked her fingers up and caressed them in his own, her white gloves the same shade as his skin.

"No," he said, thoughtfully. "I think you do. I think that, once you understand this all a little more, you'll want this."

She had no idea what he was talking about. Kallen swallowed, hard, as his lips brushed her fingertips. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not." His smile was lopsided. Every image in the background had melded together. All except for him, standing stark and clear and blazing bright. Hesitantly, she leaned forward. Her free hand was clutching at the edge of the seat.

_What the hell?! What the hell is _this_?! _she wanted to scream, but her mouth wouldn't work. It was like she was nothing but a passenger, a slave to her body's will— which sounded kinky. _No time for having Tamaki-influenced thoughts! Quick, Kallen, get this under control! Remember the _last _time you kissed him?_

All those thoughts swarmed through her head, buzzing like a cloud of locusts, until she realized that she _wanted _to. At least physically. The touches weren't electrifying anymore, as far as she could tell, and they were—nice. Externally so.

_What could it hurt? _plead one voice. Another instantly rebutted, _I don't know; perhaps your pride?_

"Hel-_lo! _Lulu! You didn't say hi to me!"

Everything refocused. Kallen surfaced from the weird experience with a headache. She fished around in her pockets for her medicine, probing into the deepest recesses and finding a mint and two pieces of gum, but nothing of any use. Not even a Prozac or a nonprescription antibiotic. She settled back into her chair, unconsciously leaning back against Lelouch's arm.

The girl standing in front of them was a girl their age, with red waist-length hair and eyes that were practically emerald. She was smiling brightly. Kallen felt a twinge of recognition and put the name Shirley to the girlish face in front of her. Her eyes kept flickering between her and Lelouch, and her smile seemed to be fixed on.

"Sorry, Shirley," he said, and then he looked up hopefully at her. "Hi?"

Shirley laughed, flinging back her head and exposing the curve of her neck. Kallen felt something stirring as she looked at the two of them.

_Correction. Now it's a really bad shojo manga. _

She sat there, smiling dumbly and feeling like a piece of candy attached to his arm as they chatted about school. Not that she was angry at Shirley. She'd never actually say that Lelouch was attractive, but the truth was that he was. Just not appealing to her. A good kisser, maybe, but still not mentally appealing. Shirley could flirt with him all she wanted. It wasn't like she _cared. _

Or at least she didn't until Shirley said, "Lulu, I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

Kallen's suspicion that you could choke on air was confirmed. She spluttered, face going purple, gasping out: "No! W— we aren't—"

"Shirley." Lelouch looked at the redhead dispassionately. "You ruined the surprise."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I—"

"I think your mother is calling for you." Kallen, as she regained control of her lungs, could only see the back of Lelouch's tilted head. He was looking towards a group of women, none of which were looking them.

"She is? Lulu, I'm so sorry—"

"Shirley! Come over here; I have to introduce you to someone!"

The person in question turned towards her mother, who _had_ just called her. She looked pleadingly back at Lelouch. "I'm sorry," she whispered, before turning around and walking towards the women. It was hard not to feel bad for her. She had been funny and sweet, if not a little naive, when Kallen had met her at school. At the same time, the 'jealous' feeling she was getting did make it hard.

"Kallen."

"Don't say my name like that." She told him, tempted to dig her heels into the ground, her hand still in his own. He was gripping it so tight it was almost uncomfortable, now. "You say it like you know me."

"Well," he said, and his smirk was definitely cheeky. God, he_ needed_ a wrench thrown at him. "Let's say that I think I do."

"What do you mean?" she turned to him, fierce blue eyes meeting calm lavender. "I don't want to play mind games. Just get it out."

"First, I want to ask you to dance. And second"

"No," she said automatically. "To the first. Go on."

"I'm not telling you unless you say yes."

"Fine, then." Damn it, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. "Yes. Now what's the second?"

"You'll call me crazy, but—" He leaned in close, and she leaned backwards. She had felt his breath against her face, minty and tangy, for a mere moment. It had made her legs go gelatinous, just as the sudden transformation from joking to solemnity in his expression.. _Stupid hormones!_ "Would you believe me if I told you that I knew you once, a long time ago?"

"What do you mean, once?" She looked at him steadily.

"As in a past life, perhaps?"

Kallen had steeled herself for such an answer. Nevertheless, she had to struggle to keep herself under control. Half of her wanted to laugh at him, and another half almost wanted to believe him. It would explain why she had those weird blackouts, the dreams, the headaches— it would explain _all _of it. But she barely knew him. Two days and one stalking; one chance meeting at a party and that was _all. _She wanted to believe him; she really did, and that just made it worse.

"I'd believe you were lying."

"What if I could prove it to you?"

Any sensible girl _would _have laughed. They would have stared at him like he was a nutcase, excuse themselves, and then go ruin his social life in style. Kallen, then, wasn't sensible. Instead of doing all of the above, she gave him a challenging look and tilted her chin upwards. "Fine, then. Prove it."

"I can," he replied, slipped his hand out from hers, and took a slip of paper out of his pocket. He began to write on it, scribbling down a number and a house address. "Go to there Sunday, around noon. I'll be expecting that first dance now. I'll see you on the floor."

She closed her eyes and nodded, and he was gone.

_You're a silly fool_, she told herself. _You're a silly fool, and the problem is that you don't realize it. _

* * *

**A/N: **I accidentally lied. Dx Sorry! The party will last for another chapter, I think, though the next half of it will probably be around four thousand words. After _that_ we'll get to Lelouch point-of-view, and maybe we'll meet a certain witch in the mix... But before that, we get to see them dance!

Ha, I know this chapter is a little bland. (I blame algebra.) :v Bear with me, please?

_Feedback appreciated! _


	4. headstrong

**A/N: **Okay, you guys, I'd like to apologize for the lateness of this chapter. ;___; School and life got in the way. Nevertheless, I have less than a month of school left, so you can expect quicker updates soon. 8D

Also. This is only half of what I originally planned to post and it kind of blatantly sucks. I'll most likely rewrite it when school lets out. Until then, sorry about the terrible suckage.

**Disclaimer:** Silly readers, Code Geass is for Sunrise!  
**

* * *

**

_This is coming from a gentleman, with your needs in mind;_  
_I've got his on the side_—

**iv.  
**_glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever_

_It's the church again. _

_Kallen is only grateful that it is familiar if forbidden territory; she steps forward. The ground is scattered with rose petals, as if there had been a wedding, and bouquets of lavender rest forgotten on the pews. A setting sun casts its hues through the windows. When she comes to the altar, there lies a sword. Its scabbard was worn by time. She reached out to touch the hilt. Her hands were red, the color of blood and war; passion and love_— _She is choking on it, the smell of it_, _cloying and too-sweet in her throat like rotting things. She cannot bare to look at her hands. They are that of a murderer, not of a girl, not of a warrior_—

Kallen, soon after meeting Lelouch, was hoisted up by the arm and dragged towards another field, where the Knightmare races would take place. Kaguya had seats in one of the stands, above most of the other people. She wondered how she got such good seats.

While the Britannian and Japanese governments got on fairly well, the relations were still tense. Japanese officials and their families were usually invited out of politeness and obligation than actual want for them there. It was the same in most former Areas, from what she could tell. All smiles and handshakes, and then washing the hands with which you shook in scalding water when you came home. Her own father had cursed the name of allies and foreigners alike when he'd come back from a business meeting, and sit in his study for hours.

"Is your fiance coming to sit with us?" she asked, both hoping he wasn't and hoping he was. She didn't know whether to sigh in relief or frown in disappointment when Kaguya shook her head, and settled for telling herself she was an idiot.

_You're an idiot, _she repeated, turning it into a mantra as her eyes skipped from head to head, looking for black.

She was about to tell herself it again when a wave rippled through the crowd, turning heads and stirring up hurried whispers. "What happened?" she asked Kaguya, leaning forward in her seat. The commotion had spread out from the stands where the Knightmares were.

"I don't know," Kaguya said, then cocked her head as one of her guardians came up and spoke to her. She looked positively gleeful. "Apparently, one of the pilots got hurt. He can't pilot the Knightmare now, and that would leave the Britannians with only thirteen Knightmares, which is an unlucky number for them, I think~ They need a new pilot now. Hey, I know! You could go, Kallen!"

"Me?" She shook her head. "I've never even piloted one in my—"

"Tohdoh!" Kaguya snapped her fingers, and one of her stern-faced guards appeared at her side yet again. "Please take Kallen down to the field. She'd like to try and pilot one of the Knightmare Frames."

Tohdoh bowed to Kaguya, stoically taking in all she'd told him. He was very talented at what he did. In his ten years of service, he'd deflected two kidnappings and foiled one assassination attempt aimed at Kaguya, and amazingly made it through it all unscratched— for the most part. It was kind of like being in a longterm war. Did it change you? did it make you into something you hadn't been?

She didn't like to think about it, and so most of the time she didn't. But walking down to the field, she had to. The man she was standing next to had killed people. He'd shot them and murdered them— self-defense— but it didn't change the fact. It wasn't that she had a problem with it. The problem was that she didn't.

Shouldn't you be disturbed, whether it was in self-defense or not? But it seemed— normal to her, to do things to protect. She wasn't justifying murder in cold blood by any means, but crying over every murder just wasn't worth it. It was a thing of the world. Killing in self-defense didn't even make her flinch. Sometimes it was the only choice, she'd catch herself thinking, and then she'd ask herself how she, of all people, would know.

The field was larger than she expected, and by the stands it was packed. People ran back and forth, checking engines and various machinery, making sure their pilots were all right. Tohdoh left as soon as she'd stepped onto the grass. No one noticed her, at first, standing awkwardly at the fringes of the crowd. On one hand, this could be very bad— another thing to add to her list! But on the other— Kallen shook her head and took a wavering step forward._  
_

_Geez, Kallen,_ she thought, rolling her eyes. _The absolute worst they can do is kick you out. It's not like they're piranhas._

_Yes, but it feels like it,_ another voice responded, just as someone tapped on her shoulder and said, "Excuse me, but are you here to replace Gino?"

Kallen whipped around, and the speaker took a step back. She was a girl several years older than her, blue-eyed, her black hair tucked into braids, looking demurely at the ground.

"Um," she said. _Another A! Your eloquence is amazing!_ "Yes, I am— I mean, if you don't already have someone there."

_Way to sound confident,_ _Kallen._

The girl nodded, and pointed into the distance. "The Professor will see you," she said. "You'll need a uniform, of course."

Like scraping rust off a pan, Kallen shook off the lingering traces of nostalgia and familiarity as the girl walked away. The crowd was only getting thicker, as enthusiasts and politicos came down to see what was taking so long. Or the people that worked for them, at least. She hunched her shoulders and elbowed her way through the mass, scowling as someone nearly tripped her.

The Knightmare was beautiful, trimmed in blue, its main body sleek and white. Kallen felt her mouth drop open as she looked up at it. Compared to the ones at the garage, this was _heaven. _She reached out and put her hand on one of its legs. The metal— what kind? It had to be strong if it were one of the fighting models, but if it were just for show, that was an entirely different story— was cool underneath her hands, and it hummed with the machinery working inside. It felt— familiar. Not in the way Lelouch did, but the way a song unheard for years tugged at your memory.

"Excuse me~" A hand descended on her shoulder. Kallen's hand went to her waist. It met her hip instead of— whatever she'd been expecting to find there. "Are you here to replace our errant pilot, perhaps?"

"If you find me capable," she replied curtly, stepping out of their grasp. _No need to be hesitant or play the coward. _

Kallen met his inquisitive, clinical stare with decorum. She hoped. If not, than it was a glare, and glares weren't the best ways to impress someone, though the man in front of her didn't seem to be very concerned about how she looked at him.

"You'll do," he eventually said, shrugging. "I'll just have to get my assistant to get you a uniform. Speaking of, where _is _that silly girl?"

"Right here, Professor," said the girl from before, stepping out of the shadows. Her glasses had slipped down her nose, and the 'professor' leaned forward and pushed them back up, causing her to blush furiously. She turned away and inclined her head in another direction, towards a pitched tent. "Right this way, if you will, ma'am."

She followed the girl into a tent. It was filled on both sides with clothes, ranging in colors. Kallen picked something form-fitting and black, the ends of the legs flared out and hemmed in gold. The girl turned away, hiding her face in her hands, as she pulled it on and zipped it up. It fit— the collar was too tight, but she could breathe. She felt sick, but she knew that the suit wasn't what was making her so.

_Calm down, _she thought, pressing her hands to her waist and taking three deep breaths. _You're Kallen Kouzuki. None of these asses can say anything to you and make it mean something unless you let them. _

"Are you ready?" the girl had appeared out of nowhere, and Kallen had to still an impulsive jump. She nodded and steeled herself. The key was a heavy weight in her palm, chilly against her clammy palms.

_Oh god, _was her first reaction. The crowds which had been impatient were now sitting stock-still in anticipation of the event. Kallen stopped mid-step. They weren't looking at her, thankfully; their gazes were trained on the announcer, and a boy in a sling. Again, she had a brief feeling of wistfulness before she shook her head, reminding herself to be steady. Steady and she could do anything. Steady and she could make it through this week; steady and she could make it through seeing a boy who most likely had head trauma; steady and she could start a revolution. She smiled to herself, thinking _right. About what, pray tell? _

Kallen climbed in the Knightmare feeling like her gut was jammed up her throat. The seat she snuggled into was leather. Patent leather. Apparently, the Britannians could spend enough money giving luxury to inanimate objects while their people starved on the streets. Poverty wasn't as commonplace as it had once been, but she'd known a few people that had been turned out onto the street because of the memory of racist heyday.

_Breathe, _she told herself, as she put the key into ignition with shaking hands. The announcer yelled out the rules, and there was a smattering of clapping. _Just breathe. This can't be as bad as you imagined._

Her track was outlined in white. She waited, holding her breath despite her mind's lecturing, as the announcer raised a gun. Without her acknowledgment, her hands found themselves relaxing, her body taking it all in. If she had, she'd have been a tiny bit unnerved. It felt like she'd done this before. It felt like she'd sat in the cockpit of a Knightmare many times, her body tight with anticipation of the fight, a conflagration of apprehension and confidence battling it out in her stomach. It felt— natural.

The shot was fired. Kallen lurched forward as her hand lighted on several different buttons, and her other pushed the stick shift up. This was _not _what she'd been expecting, and the worst part of it was that she was ahead of the other contestants.

As her hands— her seemingly possessed hands, god, what was up with hands lately— somehow made the Knightmare go to the left, she hit her head on the side of the cockpit. For a second, she tasted blood.

_Obviously, my hands don't care for my well-being_, she thought, as she tried to reach up and rub at the shallow, stinging cut on her forehead. Instead, her hands stayed where they were. Her eyes narrowed and she attempted to move her feet—in vain. Stifling a growl, she glared at the cockpit. _Hey, body, could you try moving? I'd really appreciate it. I know it's a_ lot_ to ask_— _but I'd kind of like free movement. Please? Pretty_—

"Motherfu—" she gasped out, as her head _slammed _against the control panel. Everything disappeared. She came to with another jolt, this time almost deposited out of her seat, her air supply being cut short by her seatbelts. The whole side of her head pulsed in unison with her heartbeat, and she had to blink away drops of blood. Clutching at the belts, she tried to pry them off her with no success. Stars spun across her vision. Somehow she managed to think, _God no not this soon not again please no I'm not ready yet please, please, not the light never the light the light hurts I want my mother and I want Naoto and I want my friends, I want friends, I want Lel_—

The seatbelts retracted with a snap_. _Kallen gulped for air, her chest heaving. Through the screen, she could see a Knightmare speeding away, metal spikes folding into its legs.

"Is that even allowed?" she muttered to herself, tapping in a few more things. She had studied every part of a Knightmare before, so she could handle them more carefully— and it had paid off, apparently. There were a few signals she didn't understand (though the flashing _Yggdrasil Drive Low, 24% to empty _was hard to miss or misinterpret), but it was all right. She could do this, since her magical and slightly creepy abilities had disappeared. Sure, her head hurt like a bitch. Sure, she'd be feeling this in the morning— especially if she decided to go meet Lelouch— but if she could make it through this, she would be all right.

Setting the stick shaft on the highest gear it could go, she typed in autopilot and fished the manual out from an overhead compartment. There was a First Aid kit in there too, yet winning took top spot. No jerk could mess with her like that and expect no retaliation.

_I'll show them, _she thought. Her own ferocity would have surprised her if she'd been paying attention. _I'll show them! They'll be wishing they never considered pulling that on me by the time I'm done! _

By swerving around a few other Knightmares, she got to the tail of the one which had attacked hers. The pilot didn't even notice. Kallen thought about just trying to race ahead of it before thinking that if it could do that to her she could do it to it, rules be damned. She'd have the evidence to prove it. But she hesitated. It wasn't right, was it? She didn't want to be that kind of person, even if it was in retaliation— it wasn't like they were battling in a war—

Either way, her fate had been decided. Kallen let out a sigh as she slumped down in her seat as a loud horn sounded, announcing a winner— a winner that wasn't her.

* * *

**A/N: **You never know, but I think the next chapter might be overdue. It's the last nine weeks of school, algebra is the bane of my existence, and there will be lots of school functions I'll have to go ~*~represent~*~ at. But it could take less time. I won't know until I actually post it, and I'm really excited about writing it, so that might have an effect.

Again, I'm sorry for the quality of this chapter. ;___; I just don't think it's fair to keep all of you hanging. But I'm coming up with a LelouchKallen one-shot, so maybe that will act as penance? Gigantic orz here, guys. _Gigantic._

_Feedback appreciated! _


	5. one more chance

**A/N: **This is significantly longer than the other chapters, and so it took me a longer time to update it. It's also very pivotal in the storyline, and you get to see... Well. ;D You'll see. Also. This is _very, very _long, rounding out at about **eight thousand words**. Make sure you have a warm cup of something to keep you interested in it as you go along. Originally, this wasn't going to be so long—shorter, but it would have ended in a cliffhanger. I thought you guys deserved a longer chapter due to a longer time period without updates, and one that finally resolved something. (Even if it's rough and unbeta'ed.) Believe me, though. The story is not over. In fact, it has about another five or six chapters to go, and maybe more, depending on how much I can fit into one.

ALSO. I don't think I've replied to all the reviews yet, to which I must apologize for. You'll be getting replies soon. (I am so excited about hitting fifty! 8D You guys wouldn't believe~ If any reviewers have suggestions on how to reward yourselves, I'll gladly take them. Just no writing projects. ;____; I have so many right now, it's not even funny. Not that it would be. But, um...)

There is swearing in this chapter. Not a lot of it, but enough to warrant a warning. You also get Lelouch's POV!

**EDIT: **Huge thanks to 'All That Is Left Unsaid' for helping me iron out most of the grammatical kinks in this chapter. c: Thank you so much! An added thanks to others who also pointed out more glaring mistakes (like the slash marks).

**Disclaimer: **I had a dream where I owned Code Geass. Sadly, I woke up and my dream hadn't carried over to reality.

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_Go ahead and buy yourself a drink;  
because you know you're deserving of it—  
_**v.**_  
if everything isn't all right, it's not done  
_

_There was a time— there was no time. It was a great empty maw, this lack of space and time and color and life, prepared to swallow Kallen as she sat there, helpless. She saw herself reflected in thousands of mirrors. It made her feel so useless, so weak. How would she ever protect anyone if she couldn't even save herself? She stood up. Somehow, she would escape this place. Somehow._

_And she walked. Through the desert, whispering secrets and memories and nothings against her skin; the cathedral, soaked in blood and flowers. She clenched her teeth and walked forward. Time would wait. The world would not. _

_The day was breaking, and she walked towards the sunrise.  
_

"So, how was it?"

Kallen smiled at Kaguya and pulled down her skirt. It went down to just below her knees. Her school uniform was worse, but people were actually looking at her. She knew it wasn't just her imagination. Several people had clapped her on the back and congratulated her. She didn't know why, except that she'd raced; it wasn't like she'd won anything or even gotten into the top spot, though that weird professor had thought she'd done well— for her first time. All that Kallen felt was relief that it was over and done with and she hadn't gotten too hurt. At the thought, she touched the bandage intersecting her forehead and ran her fingers along the edge of the cut.

"Good, I guess," she said, and accepted the glass of (what she hoped was) fruit juice the waiter passed her. "I'm kind of tired. Do you mind if I go sit down?"

"But the dancing is about to start," Kaguya whined, pouting. Kallen could hear the music starting in the background. A gentle, swaying melody that she'd heard somewhere before, something that would crescendo and rise into a rhythm of fast-plucked strings and tinkling chimes. She shook her head to disperse it.

"I'm going to go get a drink," Kallen said, and made her escape. Kaguya would know that she was deliberately avoiding having to dance. She was sure that if she tried it, she wouldn't end up tripping over her own or her partner's feet, but she didn't want to be seen with anyone. She could already see the long line of people forming into groups of two on the summer grass.

"You have a drink in your hand!" came the indignant call from behind her. Kallen would have grinned, but there was an ache in her bones and one building behind her eyes. She rolled her ankles and frowned. If she kept going like this, she might have arthritis by the time she was forty. Which was a funny thought— her, the head athlete at her elementary and middle schools bedridden with arthritis— but that of a headache wasn't. She fished around at the hem of her dress. If anyone looked, they'd just think she was nervously fiddling with it. Kallen was actually looking for her bottle of pills, in the hidden seam underneath the hem. She frowned. She'd look in her purse when she got to a safer place.

She slipped through the crowds, murmuring quiet apologies as she bumped into people, elbowed them, or did something along those lines. Usually they didn't even hear her. Drunk off themselves, probably. It would be just like the Britannians. Of course they didn't mean it. It was just their natural attitude, after all. They couldn't help what they'd been raised to be like.

Scowling, she came to a tree strung in lights that glowed like fireflies and sat on the grass beneath it. It was a beautiful night. She could even think the dancers were beautiful, once she was outside of their throng, elegantly dressed in vivid colors and twirling around gracefully, skirts and coattails swilling out around them. Like a flock of bright birds in the morning. She raised her glass to her smiling lips and gulped half of it down, thinking _to you, whoever you are._

_I'm being too wistful,_ she thought, and downed the rest of her drink. She probably should get back to Kaguya. While she wouldn't mean it maliciously, Kaguya might just decide to get up and leave without even thinking about her. It would suck to get stuck there. She could walk home if it came down to that. Her house wasn't too far away, at least not in her terms, and if any asshole tried to touch her, she'd show him that even blunt nails could do a hell of a lot of damage.

"Shouldn't you be dancing?"

Her head jerked up at Lelouch's voice, and he had the utter gall to laugh at her surprised expression. She scowled and crossed her arms.

"Shouldn't you be doing something more productive than stalking me?" she snapped back in irritation. One of her bangs swung into her face. She blew it back. He moved forward, as if to brush it out of her face, and she caught his wrist with her hand and his gaze with her glare. "What more do you want from me? I agreed to meet with you. What next, are you going to try and rape me?"

"It's not rape if the victim is willing," he said with a smirk. Kallen's scowl deepened.

"Who said I'd be willing?" she retorted, and his gaze dropped to her grip on his wrist. She only tightened it. "I don't think that counts. I could only be doing this so you'll have a bruise there—"

"—which I could explain in various lewd ways," Lelouch said, shrugging. "Honestly, I'm just doing it so you don't have to dance with anyone else."

"Shouldn't you be dancing with your fiancee?" she replied after a moment of thought. Who would want to dance with her? If anyone did ask, she could have just declined, politely or not depending on how they asked. "And don't you have to appease your fans?"

"Already did." His smirk had been downplayed to a smile— a friendly one. "I danced with all the females in my family, made smalltalk with Shirley, took my little sister on a walk, and directed five of your possible suitors in the wrong direction."

At her skeptical, narrowed expression, he sighed. "I just want one dance. I promise I'll never— that I won't bother you again tonight, and if you don't want to see me after tomorrow, I won't ever again."

His pleading violet eyes made no impression on her, but the thought of a lack of him made everything seem brighter. One dance would be worth it, wouldn't it? Even if her insides told her not to trust him and she always relied on her gut feeling—

"All right," she nodded and stood up. Kallen brushed grass away from her skirt. Lelouch took a step away and bowed, extending one pale hand to her. She placed her own in it and he put his lips against the fabric of her glove. A pleasant buzz trembled throughout her as Lelouch wrapped his arm around her waist, his form inches away from hers, their hands clasped to the left of them. At first, they were swaying so gently she hadn't realized they'd started. His eyes were heliotrope pools (endless and ageless and loveless, and she'd never been this poetic before, so why now?).

Everything blurred around them— _ah shit, hallucinogenic drugs again?!_ she thought, trying hard to hold onto what remained of her mind. It was almost like he drugged her. She couldn't snatch her gaze away from his, and when he spun her, she was practically desperate to look at him again. His hand was warm against her own, his arm protective around her. There was nothing else. No family. No school. No worries, no pain, no need to feel those inconsequential things called emotions. She was Kallen Kouzuki, a student at some ritzy private school, and a part-time worker at her brother's garage. Then she just— wasn't.

When she came back to herself, he was dipping her, and she'd never felt safer. Her fingernails had dug into his shoulder blades. He had the same expression she momentairily saw mirrored in those eyes: hazy, high. Then they were flat and purple.

The song ended with polite applause as the couples switched with each other. Kallen jumped away, hugging herself, trying to stop her stomach from dropping. She was going to be sick again.

"I'm sorry," Lelouch said, as bewildered as she felt. "I have no idea what that was—"

"If you're lying, I will find you and castrate you." She couldn't look at him. What was this?! She didn't like it at all. "So, you promised. One dance, I go to this address tomorrow, and you'll never bother me again, right?"

The piece of paper was crumpled in her fist. Lelouch nodded, albeit reluctantly, his hands in his pockets and his head down. Kallen hesitated before she walked past him, back into the whirl of lights and color, and she could have almost sworn she heard him whisper 'I'm sorry'.

She woke up feeling like hell on legs the next morning. Kallen had changed into the rattiest, most comfortable pajamas she owned and hadn't even said good night to her mother, who was in bed reading; or Naoto, who was playing poker with their friend Ohgi. She was pretty sure that hadn't been just fruit juice, either, that she'd drunk.

Rubbing at her eyes and yawning, she cracked her eyelids and fumbled for her phone. It was a solid weight in her hand. Flipping it open, she texted Naoto as quickly as possible and asked for some pills, orange juice, and a doughnut. He texted back and told her to get her lazy rear out of bed and get it for herself. She scowled. At least she had all the time in the world, she decided. It was Sunday. Mhm, perfect for staying in bed and resting, and maybe taking a long walk in the afternoon. She smiled. That would be good. She needed some time to herself, so she wasn't driven absolutely crazy by that—

Her feet were on the floor before it hit her. Kallen's eyelids flared open and she froze, her hand curling into a fist, her coverlet a substitution stress ball.

_Breathe in,_ her mind conditioned. _Breathe out. Just, you know— calm down and don't go hit anything. Good, you're doing good, this isn't bad, is it? Now just calmly go and ask Naoto what time it is—_

In lieu of moving her reluctant self out of the safety of her bedroom, she checked her phone. It was nine o'clock. A slightly fanatic look in her eyes, she stood up and robotically moved towards the dresser, pulling out a 'casual' outfit and staring desperately at it before picking up her phone and dialing another number. She counted the dial tones. The girl had it down to a science.

"Hello~? Good morning, Kouzuki-san! Are you free today? You seemed odd last night, so I was going to—"

Kallen cut off Kaguya's voice, which was becoming very similar to the squeal of rubber tires against asphalt. "Kaguya, I need your advice."

_You shouldn't do this,_ the part of her she'd dubbed her personal therapist said. _What if she asks for money? Or if you're going out with someone? Or—_

"With what?" Kaguya sounded all too pleased. Kallen looked heavenward.

"I need you to help me—pick out clothes. Please."

"For what? Ooh, is Kallen going on a date?"

"I guess so," she said, staring out the window at the bright blue sky. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that."

* * *

Lelouch watched the milk hit the bottom of his glass with apathy induced by the early hour. By 'early hour', he meant eleven o'clock, but any hour would be considered early if you were kicked out of your bed and mercilessly teased for being so whipped.

"Watch it, Lulu," came a patronizing voice from behind him. "You might spill it if you don't watch out for yourself."

He rolled his eyes and tossed the milk into the sink, opting for coffee instead. Lelouch was sure if he listened hard enough, he would be able to hear C.C.'s smirk. He'd asked her for her help three days ago. She'd laughed at him and his 'silly fascination with how things were'. Could he help it? Kallen had been close to him in his—past life. Many others had been. He was lucky that Nunnally was still related to him, and that he'd met Suzaku when he was thirteen. Otherwise, he might not have known how to deal with them not being close to him, and he'd have been liable to attach himself to their side in a creepy manner, a manner that certainly wasn't accepted in society.

"So, is the Red Lotus coming to visit us today?" He turned to look at C.C. She sat on the kitchen counter, her expression going from disdainful to blank in seconds. Sometimes she seemed different. A little more open about her feelings; a little more bitter in turn. Others she seemed the same as she had—what? One hundred, one-twenty years ago? She had not changed physically. Most days she kept her hair in a loose braid and wore comfortable, knee-length dresses, but her eyes were the same gold color and her hair the same green color as sour apples.

"She's supposed to." He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. He'd taken a shower that did little to wake him up and dressed in clean clothes, and sent Nunnally out for a trip to the carnival. On the subject of his clothes, the following conversation had taken place.

_"Do you think you're going to a white-tie event?"_

_He looked at her, mock-hurt. "There's nothing wrong with my clothes," he said, his tone leaving no room for extra remarks. But he'd learned that C.C. always had the last word._

_"I always thought you were a little flamboyant," she'd sighed, dangling socked feet off the end of his bed and flipping through a feminine magazine she'd found in Nunnally's room. "Then again, I didn't know such traits exceeded a life span. Are you sure you weren't secretly a girl in the life before your last, Lulu-chan?"_

"Are you sure this is wise, Lelouch?" she asked, and her tone had softened. It hadn't softened to the point of concern. This was C.C. he was dealing with, after all.

He mulled over it. His spoon chimed against the side of his mug as he stirred sugar and cream into it, watching it lighten from black to brown and the white center slowly break apart and disintegrate into the rest of the liquid. No, he wasn't sure it was wise; he just didn't have much choice else. Kallen wasn't much different this time around, either. Both of them looked very much like their counterparts in their last life, and while the situations they'd grown up in had changed significantly, there were some things you couldn't take from people. She still had that core of pride and a fighting spirit. He was still calculating and ruthless. Perhaps his Geass wasn't the same, yet— He couldn't let this go.

"No," he eventually said, setting down his spoon in the sink. He took a long sip of his coffee. "But we always bet on chances, didn't we?"

C.C. was halfway through nodding when the doorbell rang. Lelouch's arm jerked and he spilled coffee over himself and the floor. Throwing the roll of paper towels at C.C., who was smirking her equivalent of hysterical laughter after him, he cursed and wrung his shirt out as best as he could. The doorbell sounded a second time. He walked to the door. It took effort to keep his step even and his features smooth, suave, and debonair.

She was standing awkwardly in the middle of his porch. There were shadows underneath her eyes and she looked unhealthily wan, her shoulders slumped. She straightened guiltily when she saw him. Her heels snapped together and her hand twitched at her side, as if she was tempted to make a salute. He noticed that she had dressed up for the occasion; not overtly so, just enough to make him notice the effort. If she were healthier, the color scheme would have brought out the blush in her cheeks and the lurid blue of her eyes. As it was, it just served to make her look pallid and washed-out.

A black jacket was over her shoulders and a pale pink shirt was underneath it, billowing to mid-thigh. A skirt that matched her jacket inched past it. Her shoes were what C.C. would call 'hooker boots'. A butterfly barrette twinkled in her hair, doing little to contain her spiky hair. They stared at each other. He'd never seen her in such formal attire, in this life or the last, and he wasn't that surprised to find his palms clammy and his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.

_Funny_, he thought. _I can kill and command without a second thought, yet seeing her makes me nervous. This is a problem._

"You look—" he ventured, and shut his mouth as she observed him in return, her eyes stopping at the coffee stains. She raised her eyebrows. If he remembered correctly, she'd never been able to raise each one individually. "—nice. This isn't what it looks like, I assure you."

"Whatever." She folded her arms and glared at him. It was so familiar he smiled, and she snarled. "You called me here. What for?"

"Please, come inside and—"

"I don't want to have tea. I want to find out what you wanted me for." Her chin jutted upwards stubbornly, and she didn't drop her gaze for a second. Kallen stepped forward. He stayed in place.

"Fine," he relented, his words not revealing that it could be considered _relenting_ at all. He turned away and didn't wait to see if she'd follow. She always had—and he hoped that, out of all things, it was one habit that hadn't changed.

Her footsteps thudded on the stairs behind him as he climbed. The walls were bare of pictures. His family had changed, but apparently fate enjoyed mocking him too much to have different parents. Cousins had become uncles and aunts or distant relatives, and uncles and aunts had turned into cousins. Lelouch didn't mind. As long as he wasn't forced to see them often, he was fine with keeping them at arm's length.

"C.C.?" he called, rapping his knuckles on the library door. It wasn't an actual library; just a room with a fireplace, the shelves stacked to capacity with movies and books. She liked to sit in there. Whatever she did was beyond him.

Silence fell. No answering dry remark broke it. Lelouch twisted the knob and stopped as Kallen spoke, "You know, I'm not going in there." He stared at her incomprehensibly. She ducked her head, a pale blush on her cheeks. "You know. Alone. With... you."

He chuckled. "Really, Kallen, I'd stop suggesting these things. It's almost like you're leading me on." Lelouch turned the knob while she spluttered in protest.

C.C. was sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, a pair of black glasses perched on her nose. She had been reading, if the book in her lap was any indication.

"Yes?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and blinking innocently. A smirk grew on her face as she noticed Kallen standing behind him. "Ah, Lelouch—your next victim? So soon!"

_This is where the practice of keeping your expression calm comes in._ He tried not to turn red out of mortification as Kallen's spluttering increased. C.C. remained pleasant, no hint of her _maliciousness_ appearing on her face.

"No pizza for a _week_," he hissed. C.C. raised a derisive eyebrow. He turned around, intending to tell Kallen to _not_ listen to that witch and the lies she spewed, when he realized she was laughing. His mouth dropped open.

"You're crazy," she managed, wiping imaginary tears away from her eyes as she straightened, smoothing her mussed hair. "You're absolutely crazy, and I still don't trust you, but... Unless she's your accomplice, I'll feel safer with her in the room."

With that, Kallen walked into the library and flopped onto the floor. Lelouch compressed his lips. It hadn't been what he'd been expecting. Reluctance, yes—he would never have physically forced her to go in, though he almost would have said _anything_ at all to make her follow him. Not that he was going to begrudge her doing it this way. It was easier, yet... He chewed on his lower lip, pulling the skin between his teeth. Was it right to burden someone with this knowledge? Just because he wanted company in his memory (or maybe only someone to assuage his guilt) gave him no right to disrupt Kallen's daily life and stack memories of another life onto her shoulders. It _was_ in the past. Yet, she had agreed when he proposed it to her... It wouldn't be worth it to back down without finishing it. The risk was too great.

Shaking away all trepidation, he smiled at her and took a seat on the lavender couch. This was the only room with pictures in it. They lined the walls, black-and-white intermixed with color, formal portraits and blurred shots next to each other. His family and his friends, both new and old. He would have toasted them if he had a glass, or if they'd drawn his attention to them as closely as they usually did. Today, the whole of it was focused on her.

"So, what are we doing?" Kallen glanced from him to C.C. "You said that you could prove that you'd known me. In a past life."

_No doubts. Remember, no doubts._ "C.C., will you do the honors?"

The green-haired witch, the only one who'd really known him for his past two lives, turned to look at him apathetically. She rose with a sigh only to crouch down on the floor next to Kallen. C.C. took Kallen's hand in both of her own, sandwiching it between the two. "I advise you—don't scream. There will be pain. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she said, her smile disbelieving. She leaned back, against the edge of the sofa he was sitting on, and closed her eyes. Lelouch wished, with a taste like ashes in his mouth, that she would allow him to put his hand on her head. "This can't be too bad."

C.C.'s smirk was bitter and wry. "Everything is worse than it seems."

She leaned forward and brushed her lips against Kallen's forehead for a brief second. Kallen went rigid—_mortis_, as stiff as if she were dead. Her pupils contracted, her back half-arching and her fingers digging into the carpeting. Lelouch couldn't tell if this was what was supposed to be happening or not. He'd never seen it happen before, and C.C. remained impassive, the Geass sigil flaring beneath her bangs. A guttural sound came from Kallen's throat.

"C.C., you aren't doing anything I did not ask of you, are you?" he asked, and she held a hand up for silence. He remained unsure. Kallen's mouth hung open, and while she hadn't blanched, her knuckles showed white through her skin. She shook. Her throat was bared, her jaw clenched, and sweat had plastered her bangs to her temples. She was now muttering.

"No, no... I... I never wanted it to happen—_why?!_ If you had just asked, if you had said one word, I would have—I would have done... anything... Anything..."

* * *

_"Naoto, Naoto! Piggy-back ride, please!" Her brother smiled down at her before lifting her up to his shoulders, her chubby hands curling into his hair, the Japanese summer sun smiling down at them. Her father and her mother waited at the campsite. She could smell bacon frying and eggs cooking. It was_ _happy_—

"Damn it!" The phone fell to the floor, slipping through her fingers. She didn't care. It was expensive and _so fucking what,_ what did it matter when Naoto was dead, when he would never laugh or cry or scream or _breathe_ ever again. He had mattered. She hadn't. Why was he gone? Why couldn't she have been the one? Why, why, why, over and over again and none of it did anything. The cuts on her knuckles and the bruises as she pounded her fists on the kitchen floor did nothing. Her screams did nothing. The hot tears running down her face did nothing but leave her eyes red and ugly. Her ragged breathing did nothing. It was all for fucking nothing, and what did that leave her with? Nothing.

Nothing.

_"I killed my father."_

_Kallen slit her eyes at Suzaku over the fire, out of instinctive suspicion and the upwards rush of embers. She didn't want to believe him. She'd never known him to lie; still, what kind of sick fuck would kill their old man? She muffled her snort behind her hand. He continued to look at her in that way, somewhere between honesty and lying, the fire adding new hollows and hidden turns to his face. She would, if she had the chance. She'd rip that man apart, tear him to shreds, and spit on his grave. It was different. His father had been a good man, an honest man, one who wouldn't have let Japan fall as far as it had. He wouldn't have let the Britannians march in and take. Her father was a liar. A _Britannian.

_Shrugging, she let out a yawn and rolled over. "So? I would kill mine."_

Her screams echoed back at her. They were mocking her and him and it didn't matter. All her hate—all her anger—had been spent on this. She didn't regret a second of it.

Would she fall to her knees if she wasn't bound? No, she'd run towards him and scream at him. It was—wasn't fair. He brought peace. He brought happiness. And he'd never seen any of it. He'd never see it.

_Why were you so kind?_ she wondered, desperately, as her bonds were loosed. _Why?! It's not fair! Do you think any of us wanted this? Why did you—Why couldn't you have let me _hate_ you? Why did you have to be so _kind_?_

_She was falling, through a hall of mirrors, past fields of flowers. Bright white lights blinded her. Somewhere, the sky burst apart (blue to red, aether to flame) and swords clashed; lovers entangled and battles were won. Battles were lost. Somewhere, sometime, a girl fell in love and a boy broke her heart; but that was an old story, old as time, and it was nothing new. Somewhere, sometime, friends held each other at gunpoint. Somewhere, sometime, a purple eye washed over red and she felt so very, very sick, and somewhere, sometime—_

_(A boy died. And his death meant everything.)_

_—a girl fell, white dress stained red. An innocent killer. Somewhere, sometime, a witch's stone heart cracked open and bled for the first time in centuries. Somewhere, sometime, a princess lost her sight and could not find her way back home. Somewhere, sometime—(the white king won the battle; the chess board toppled; an angry boy hid himself in a cloak of naivete and _lies_; a prince walked through the fire and slathered his hands in his beloveds' blood.)_

_Somewhere, sometime—and the world kept on turning.

* * *

_

"C.C., what did you do?!"

The witch glanced at him cooly. "I did exactly what you asked of me, Lelouch. I showed Kallen her past life."

He grit his teeth and clamped his eyes shut, fighting the surge of anger. It was hard not to revert to his former way of thinking; that she was just a pawn and he the black king, the one who made all the moves. He pressed his fingers to his eyes and waited for it to pass. The pain of his fingernails digging into his palm was a good distraction. Slowly, he allowed his breathing to even out.

"Tell me, Lelouch," came the half-curious inquiry from C.C. "Why do you bet so much on a single girl? I find it hard to believe you love her like you think you do. Is it her connection to the past? Out of all the people you know—that you like—her life has changed the least, in your opinion. Is it because she might still act the same? Did you hope that you might have something to cling onto?"

Lelouch gave her a level stare. She did not flinch. C.C. stared back, her fingers coursing through Kallen's hair. The redhead's eyelids were fluttering, revealing the whites and the occasional flicker of blue, and her mumbling was getting more comprehensible. Her forehead rested against his knee. "Why would I? The past is the past, and I should know that better than most. I don't wish to know how my legacy succeeded: the proof that it flourished is all around me. I don't wish to inflict any pain on her. But I—"

"Hush," C.C. said, and stood. She leaned over him, one arm on either side of him, her face inches in front of his own. Lelouch sat immobile. "You're a silly boy who doesn't know what, exactly, he wants. It's not what or how. It's why. Why do you want this? Why do you wish to inflict so much pain on someone? The sins of a past life are a heavy burden to bear, and the weight is doubled with the sins of this life."

"Are you suggesting I made a mistake?" he asked, his voice calm and dripping with ice. He laced his fingers over his stomach. Lelouch hated the way she could reduce him to something inconsequential in a matter of words, something to be brushed away, someone not worth a second glance. She'd treated him the same when he was a child and he started to have flashbacks to a life that was not his own. His mother wasn't worried; it was an apparent trait of his family, and if they were coming sooner than predicted, what was the problem? The only thing it meant that he was 'precocious'. But when the nightmares produced nosebleeds, migraines, nights spent awake in fear of the monsters, an old 'friend' was called in. C.C. had unlocked his memories a little at a time. They had ruptured into his daily life, memories of war and pain and the unbearable rot inside of him, like he was already dead; a zombie inhabiting a live body, and it had scared him. She had never held or coddled him. Sometimes he considered that she was trying to turn him into what he once was, but the time he suggested it (thirteen, face suffused red after an argument with his father, thunder rolling outside) she had walked out the door and hadn't come back for two months. When she did, she brought back postcards of India and Egypt, the far East, to 'trigger more memories'. All it had done was what she had meant it to do: show him that she didn't need him, but he needed her. He still hated it. Especially when she was exercising that power she held, like she was at that moment.

"No." He could feel her smile, curving jagged along his jaw as she pressed her lips to it. "I am only saying that—"

"Well then," Kallen said. If he had thought his voice had been icy, hers must contain the entirety of the arctic. "I see that not much has changed, has it?"

C.C. moved away, too slowly for her movements to be anything but purposeful. Lelouch wondered what cruel god had decided to make Murphy's Law. The kiss was not romantic; perhaps he had some semblance of those feelings for C.C. in his past life, as well as some for Shirley, but Kallen had always been his Q1. She was a wild card. Kallen was _different_. Despite her nature, she had refused to be just a pawn, and she had _kissed_ him. If he had lived, if he had someone managed to gain her forgiveness, he would have loved her as best as he knew how. This kiss with C.C. had only been maternal, a reminder of their power struggle. Apparently, she hadn't thought so.

His throat tightened. Kallen had stood, her face turned away so he couldn't see her eyes. "Kallen, I—"

"Save your lies for someone who believes them," she said, her voice chocked. Her knees wobbled as she turned away. "I don't. Not anymore. I'm going home."

Lelouch stood and walked towards her, catching her shoulder. He tried to turn her around to face him. "Kallen, don't overreact. C.C. and I are just friends; nothing more. Partners. That's all we ever were, and—"

Her slap (she was stronger, if that was believable) made his head ring. He tasted blood. Suppressing that surge of anger, he clocked his neck back around until he could see her. This was his fault, not hers, and any anger taken out on her would not be justified.

"Don't touch me." Her face was blotchy, color high in her cheeks, her eyes swollen and her mouth red. "I'm—I have to go. I never want to see your sorry face again, Lelouch vi Britannia! Don't you dare approach me. If you talk to me at school, I'll ignore you. If you come and talk to me at Naoto's garage, I'll sic him on you. If you even try and talk to me through Kaguya, I'll make sure you never get to see her either."

With that, she turned away, practically fleeing. He stood. Like a girl touching her lips after her first kiss, he raised his fingers—_trembling, _he noted absently—to the mark she'd left on his face. She'd curled her fingers in at the last moment. When he took his hand away, the tips of his own were smeared red with his blood, and he hoped that she left a bruise.

Voice hollow, he said, "I made a mistake."

"And you're going to just leave it like that?" C.C. said derisively. She was sitting on the couch, picking up the book she'd been reading earlier, her eyes already focused on the page. "I never knew you were a quitter, Lelouch. I never thought you were much of a man, but I thought you were more than what you're acting like now."

"I—"

"There is not a mistake," she muttered, "that cannot be fixed."

_This is all your fault! _he wanted to whine, like a child pointing fingers. All Lelouch did was nod. He waited there before checking his watch—nearly three P.M. Time had flown by, it seemed; and the next subway to her house left at three-thirty. If she ran, she could make it to the station in time, while he would have to order a taxi or ride a bike. It didn't matter, he decided, and grabbed his jacket off the wall.

"Goodbye, C.C.," he said, already out of breath as he shrugged it on. "I'll see you later."

The door clicked close behind him. C.C. looked up before pulling a malformed plush doll from behind the couch, and she wrapped her arms around it. "See, Cheese-kun," she whispered to it. "I told you he was a good boy."

* * *

Lelouch was already out the door when he realized that he had not heard or seen any footsteps coming down the stairs before him, but he did hear running water. He cocked his head before turning and running back upstairs. The sound was coming from the guest bathroom. Underneath it was a quieter sound, like muffled sobbing.

"Kallen?" he called, knocking on the door. He leaned against the wall. He'd wait until she came out, and she couldn't stay in there forever. Eventually, her family would start to miss her. She'd get hungry, and while there was water from the sinks, it was not as good as the one in the downstairs sink. When Nunnally came home, she'd wonder why a woman was in their bathroom.

The running water paused before turning back on, louder than before. It was several more seconds until she spoke. "Go away."

"I thought you were going home," he said, testing the knob. It was locked.

"I didn't know it was against the rules for guests to use the bathroom before doing so."

"It isn't," he agreed. He wanted to shout at her, plead with her, and Lelouch did none of those things normally. What was it about her? There were prettier women, smarter women; women more complacent, who would not bite back and glare as she did. He dared not use the word love to describe the enigmatic feeling inside of him. Lelouch didn't know what the feeling entailed (a need to protect her, love her? He'd felt none so far) and was not sure he wanted to find out.

"Good." Something broke the flow. She no longer sounded so raw, though that didn't mean she sounded all right. In regards to the latter, she sounded far from it.

The door creaked open. In an instant, his foot had wedged between it and the wall, blocking Kallen's attempts to close it. She kicked him in the shin, and despite the pain, he forced his way through and locked the door behind him. Kallen sat down on the rim of the bathrub, her face turned pointedly away, a sneer twisting her lips. He calmly slid down and sat on the floor across from her. Placing his hands on his kneecaps, he sighed heavily, waiting for her to say something. It was just a matter of waiting.

Finally, her eye twitched and she swung around to face him. There were tears in her eyes. Her fists slammed down onto the plastic and she shouted, "Why?! I didn't want to know _any _of it! I was doing fine! You bastard, you told me to _move on_—to _live!_—and when I get the chance to, you take it away! I—I never wanted to _know. _I just wanted to have happiness, and...I..."

"Would you rather have lived the rest of your life with nightmares?" he asked quietly, not once taking his eyes off her face. Everything she said was true; she had every right to call him names, to deprecate him, to hurt him. It wasn't like he didn't expect it.

"Yes," she said back, wiping furiously at her eyes and sniffing. "I would have! It's better than knowing what you did!"

"I did what was right for the time," he responded, handing her a ball of wadded toilet paper. She threw it back on him. It missed by a few centimeters, and if she hadn't still been crying, it probably wouldn't have. "I would have eventually been killed. I had to. After what I did, I didn't deserve to live, and it would ensure peace. People could live safely. With Zero behind Nunnally, none of the former Areas would question her legitimacy, and the world would be happy."

It took her a moment to respond. When she did, her eyes were bright and clear and focused, and she stood as she spoke. Her words sounded hollow. "Nunnally wasn't happy. Suzaku wasn't happy. _I _wasn't happy. You could have done something different. You could have gone away with C.C., or... I would have kept you safe. I could have. There were other ways."

She had knelt in front of him as she said it and taken his hands in her own. Her grip was so tight it was painful, her fingernails against the knobs of his wrists.

"No, there weren't," he said, no regret audible. "The world would have had a constant cloud of fear over it. What if the Demon Emperor came back? I appeared suddenly, and if I disappeared, I could have come again. The world would still be afraid."

"You could have faked it!"

"No, I couldn't have."

Kallen let his hands go and dropped her head into them. "I _loved _you. I know it wasn't enough. The rest of my life, I wondered...I tried...I moved on, but I thought about you _so much. _I—"

"I loved you as well," he cut her off, seeing her plunge into a tirade. "And that was how I showed it."

"By _dying?_" she asked, incredulous, lifting her head to stare at him.

"No," he said, and smiled at her. "By letting you live."

With a snort that was half sniffle, she slid over next to him, lying her head on his shoulder. He froze before slowly beginning to stroke her hair.

"You know," she said quietly, "I'm still going to kick your ass for putting me through that. And I'm still going to interrogate you on _why _you did this for—to—me. But...Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, pulling back. She grinned up at him.

"For one more chance."

* * *

**A/N: **I hate this chapter so much. D: But, um. My opinion doesn't really matter, considering every time I say it everyone goes, 'YOU'RE APOLOGIZING WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING!'. xD Not that I mind being proven wrong, but this gave me so many headaches. _Ugh. _Not to mention I think I probably made a load of typos, and called Kallen a 'he' and Lulu a 'she' and C.C. a 'him'. Anyway~The next chapter should be quicker, and not as long, though most likely the chapters will be longer than they were previous to _this _chapter.

_Feedback appreciated very, very much~! _By which I mean I will love you FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER if you review this chapter, because it was much harder to write than the other four. XD


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